The Signs are There
by Frayofdawn
Summary: Hope Potter is forced to return to her relatives for the summer once more, this time with new visions of Voldemort and the death of Cedric haunting her dreams. Unfortunately, this does not bode well for her as the Dursleys have no patience left. Will someone ever rescue Hope from this summer of hell? AU 4th Year/abuse/HPSS mentor fic/fem!Harry
1. Back to Hell

**I'm not sure where this story is going for now, but the start jumped in my head and wouldn't go away until I did something about it. I'm going to wait to see how the responses turn out before I post consistently, so please review! ( ALSO: Be warned. I do not have a beta and do not read my work before posting.)**

 **There will be both graphic and non-graphic descriptions of abuse in this story. Slight AU following year 4.**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

Hope Potter stood outside of the gargoyle statue that guarded Dumbledore's office. She ignored the way it was tilting its head curiously, as though it was asking her what she was doing. Hope was lost in thought. It was the last day of her fourth year, and she was ready for a break. After barely scraping by several of her classes due to being wrapped up in the Triwizards Tournaments, she was tired. The mere thought of the way the competition had ended turned her stomach.

Hope closed her eyes and clinched her teeth as an image of Cedric's face rose in her mind. She forced the memory down. It wouldn't do to throw up in front of the headmaster's office. Unconsciously, her fingers traced the new scar on her arm where her blood had been used to raise Voldemort.

"Miss Potter."

Hope stifled a gasp as she spun to see the dreaded potions master glaring at her through hooded eyes. She met them briefly before redirecting her gaze to her shoes. "Sir."

"Are you planning on going up or not? Some of us would like to get on with our days without having to wait until certain students to decide to stop dawdling."

Hope felt a flush creep up her neck and quickly turned to mumble the password to he waiting gargoyle. It looked exasperated as it finally slid open the door. Hope practically bolted up the stairs, not wanting to stay in Snape's way for any longer than necessary. Even so, she had to force her heart rate to stay down as she heard his footsteps following her up the stone steps. At the top of the stairs, Hope knocked on the door and waited for the headmaster's call to come in.

The door opened almost immediately, and Hope soon found herself sitting in a chair holding a small bowl of lemon drops. She felt her stomach twist at the thought of eating any of them, and quickly placed the bowl on Dumbledore's desk.

"Headmaster, I-" Hope was stopped by a gesture from Dumbledore's hand.

"Hope." He spoke in a gentle voice that she found herself hating. "If you are going to ask about different summer plans, then you already know what I'm going to say, especially more so now than before."

Hope stiffened at those words. "But, Sir! You must have some other way or place for me to-"

"Hope!" Albus Dumbledore's voice was sharp in that one word, effectively cutting off all of her other protests.

"You should learn to hold your tongue, Miss Potter." Snape hissed from where he was standing just to the side of the headmasters desk.

Hope's eyes flashed in anger, but held her tongue as a thin spiderweb of cracks appeared in on of the windows overlooking the quidditch pitch. She quickly stood up. "Are we done?" Dumbledore looked a little disappointed, but nodded. Before Hope had closed the door, she could hear Snape going off at Dumbledore at the way he was encouraging disrespect among his students.

Hope remained quiet as she joined her friends and throughout the train ride from Hogwarts. Flashes of scenery went by as she stared out of the window, but she didn't register any of it. All that she could think of was what awaited her at 'home'.

This year, Hope was almost certain that she was going to need to find a job, although she didn't know very many places that would hire fourteen year olds within walking distance. The previous summer had consisted of household chores and being locked in her room. Her aunt and uncle had been grumbling even then about how she should find a job if she ever wanted to waste so much of their food by eating it. A part of Hope wondered if they were even going to provide that this year. It wasn't like they gave her much to start.

"Hope!" Hope was jolted out of her train of thought to find Hermione standing at the door looking exasperated. "Come on! The train is almost empty!"

Hope quickly gathered her things, and was soon standing outside on the platform. She said her goodbyes in a hurry as soon as she saw that the Dursleys were waiting nearby, looking rather impatient. However, before she slipped away from everyone, she hurriedly pulled Fred and George aside and pressed into their hands a bag of gallons. At first, they protested, but soon Hope was leaving them behind with wide grins in their face.

All too soon, Hope was stuffing her trunk into the back of the Dursley's car. The car ride home was tense as her uncle sent her glares through the rear view mirror. Her aunt refused to even look at her, while Dudley whispered jeers and taunts about her parents.

The first time he said something along the lines of how her mother was a whore, Hope almost snapped then and there. Thankfully, she remembered where she was and pulled her emotions inside her. She buried them inside a dark recess of her mind. It would do her no good to lose control, as the last time that had happened, she hadn't been able to sit for a good two weeks.

Soon, they were pulling up into the driveway. As it is the engine stops, the Dursley's all got inside as quick as they could, leaving Hope to gather her things herself. It took her a good ten minutes to pull her trunk out of the car and up the stairs to her room.

As soon as her stuff was settled in the corner, Hope looked around the small area. It was just as dreary as she remembered. The bed was still just the mattress from the double bed that Dudley complained about being too small. At one point there had been a frame, but that had been broken last year when Dudley invited his group of friends over for a sleepover. They found out, much Dudleys delight, that six boys jumping on the bed would lead to it breaking. Of course, Hope had been blamed for the incident and locked in her room for a little over a week as punishment.

Hope sat down on the mattress, and went into a coughing fit as a large plume of dust went into the air. Home sweet home. She went to the window and tried to jerk it open, but it wouldn't budge. Hope scowled as she noticed the nails holding it in place. Her eyes spotted the small box of nails and the hammer on the floor. Of course they would be too lazy to clean up after themselves. Hope listened for a moment to make sure no one was upstairs before she bent down and grabbed the hammer. Seconds later, the nails were out and the window was open, letting the stale room vent out.

A few hours passed of relative silence before Hope heard her name being called. She took this as her que to close the window, and do a quick scan of what she wore to make sure nothing screamed magic or expensive.

Hope ran down the stairs and almost knocked Petunia over as she entered the kitchen.

"Watch where you are going, little girl!" Her aunt hissed. Hope bit back the retort that she wasn't exactly little if she stood almost the same height as Petunia and mumbled an apology. "Sit down."

Hope sat at the kitchen table where Vernon and Dudley were already seated.

"Listen here, Girl. We don't want to see you if at all possible this summer, and you do not get to freeload off of us again." Hope stayed very still, trying to make sure she didn't miss anything. There would be hell to pay if she forgot or misunderstood anything. "I don't care how you do it, but I don't want you in the house influencing Dudley with any of your wizard nonsense. You will do your normal chores and that is all. Understood?"

Hope nodded hesitantly. "What do you mean by freeloading?" She spoke quickly and softly, but still knew she had made a mistake when Vernon's face turned an interesting shade of red.

"You ungrateful child!" Aunt Petunia, who had been standing just behind Hope, cuffed her ear. "We feed you, clothe you, let you sleep under a roof, and what do we get in return? Nothing!" Hope couldn't stop herself from scoffing at that, knowing that they received a monthly payment for taking care of her. She felt the ringing in her ears intensify as Petunia cuffed her again. Hope bit back the yelp that rose in her throat.

"Make one more retort, and you sleep in the shed, understand?!" Vernon shook a meaty finger at her from across the table. He grumbled under his breath for a few minutes before he recalled the entire point to the conversation. "Listen here, Girl. Get your chores done each day and then get out of the house. If I hear of you causing trouble for any of us or our neighbors, then I'll make sure you wished that you had never been born! Now get out of my sight!"

Hope quickly jumped to her feet and practically bolted up the stairs. She was stopped by a claw-like grip on her shoulder. "Where do you think you are going?!" Aunt Petunia pulled her back into the kitchen and out of the backdoor. "We don't want any of your freakiness in the house!" One shove, and Hope was sprawling in the grass outside. "And don't bother with lunch today! We are eating out!"

With that, the door slammed shut. Hope let her body collapse completely on the warm ground. This was going to be a long summer.


	2. Settling In

**Here's the next chapter! I will be publishing these in roughly 1000 word chapters because that means I have a better chance of actually find finishing it all.**

 **Enjoy! :) P.S. Sorry for multiple notifications. Still figuring out formatting!**

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Hope's stomach gurgled loudly and tightened into a knot when it didn't receive the food it was demanding. She flinched involuntarily when her uncle glared at her. Hope was currently standing in the far corner of the kitchen, watching her cousin and uncle stuff their faces with a disgusting amount of pasta, while her aunt picked at a salad.

Internally, Hope raged at the injustice of it all. _It's not as though I did anything to deserve this._ One day in and she was already being punished. She didn't even think it was something she had done. Hope had made sure to do all of her chores that were left on a list that Aunt Petunia had put on the table. The kitchen had been cleaned, living room picked up and vacuumed, floors mopped, and she had spent the rest of the time outside, working on the yard.

Another rumble of her stomach just reminded her that she had gotten used to the food at Hogwarts and always being full. Hope mentally cursed herself for not eating less during the last few weeks. Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione had been very determined to ensure that she made it too each meal. One of them was with her almost constantly after Cedric's death concluded the Triwizard Tournament. Annoying as it had been, Hope was glad they had done so.

The phone from the hallway rang, causing Hope to jump. Her heart rate spiked, momentarily forgetting that she wasn't about to be attacked. As Petunia went to answer the phone, Hope took a deep breath to steady herself. She was safe. Well, as safe as the Dursleys could be.

Finally, the dinner was finished as Dudley immediately ambled upstairs, presumably to watch the telly. Hope had to close her eyes so that she didn't glare at him as he grumbled about not having dessert.

"Girl!" Vernon barked to her. "Throw out the scraps and get everything cleared!"

Hope did as he told her, staring at the food she was throwing into the trash with a bit of longing. As she began to clear the table and fix the kitchen again, Hope watched Vernon out of the corner of her eye as he grabbed a container from a cabinet. He opened it and poured a thin layer over the scrapped food before he moved into the living room with Petunia to watch the telly.

Waiting until she knew that they were engrossed with whatever they were watching, Hope found the container of powder and looked at the label. It didn't take a genius to find the label that pronounced the substance poisonous. Anger flared in her, and the kitchen light flickered dangerously. Hope bit her lip and finished clearing everything before bolting upstairs.

Hope sat on the mattress in her room as her stomach grumbled again.

"What's wrong, Freak?" Dudley's voice sneered from the doorway. "Did you finally realize you're worthless?"

"Go away, Duddikins." Hope ground out from behind clenched teeth. She was going to add on a sharp retort, but her stomach rumbled loudly again.

Dudley gave a smirk, giggling in a disturbing way. "I don't know why you're still alive." He sneered. "If I were you, I would have killed myself years ago."

"Likewise."

There was a long pause as Dudley ran the response through his head, figuring out what she meant by it. When it finally clicked, his face morphed into an expression of fury. He took a few steps into the room with his hand curling into a fist.

"Careful, Duddikins." Hope stood up, raising both of her hands to shoulder level. "We wouldn't want to get hurt, now, would we?"

A flash of fear crossed his eyes, and Dudley quickly backpedaled. "You wouldn't!" He accused. "Dad would beat you within an inch of your worthless, pathetic existence!"

"Want to try me?" Hope narrowed her eyes, letting the power build up around her. The window vibrated lightly.

A few seconds later, her room was rid of Dudley and the echo of her door slamming rung in her ears. Hope let out a sigh and dropped heavily onto her mattress as her stomach twisted again.

She really hoped that Dudley didn't follow through on his threat, knowing that what he said about her being beaten would be true. Hope groaned and turned onto her stomach. She was an idiot! She had even threatened him with magic.

The next hour or so passed in tense silence as Hope waited for her door to slam open and reveal a furious Vernon with a belt. Nothing happened in the end, and soon, she was dropping off into fitful sleep.

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The Dursleys finally left something for her to eat on the morning of her third day with them. It was Sunday, and the family had made her prepare an extra large batch of waffles topped with chocolate chips, syrup, marshmallows, and an unhealthy amount of syrup. She was graciously given the waffle and a half that was forgotten on the platter in the middle of the table. Hope took one look at the toppings and consumed the waffle without anything else. She probably would have throw up otherwise. After three days of eating nothing, Hope felt a temporary satisfaction, nevermind that she would be hungry within the next half hour.

The Dursleys were soon walking out of the house dressed in their Sunday best. Sometimes, Hope wondered if they had ever even seen the inside of a church. All she knew was that they always spent Sunday lunch out, no matter the weather.

As per usual, she was left with a small list of chores to be completed. She was thankful to note that the list was only to vacuum and then weed the garden. Both of which she had previously done yesterday, so there was not much more for her to do other than a cursory glance. They wouldn't be able to tell anyway.

With that done, Hope walked out of the backdoor and set off down the street.


	3. In Dire Need of a Break

**Welcome back! I think it is most definitely time to hear from everyone's favorite** **p** **otions master.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Severus Snape was currently laying on a couch with a pillow over his face to block the light. He would never admit to the position, and there was no worry of anyone stumbling across him. At last, he was free from the responsibility of constantly babysitting students who wished they were somewhere else.

The students always took up so much of his time, and he found it almost abnormal to have his life be quiet during the summer. Of course, this summer was going to be more eventful than others with the return of the Dark Lord. Severus lifted his arm so that he could see the black mark etched into his forearm. His lip curled briefly at the sight of it still on his skin after all of these years before he let his arm fall limp to his side as he closed his eyes and replaced the pillow in its former position.

A knock came from the door, and Severus had to stop a groan from slipping out. Why did someone always interrupt him? He considered ignoring whomever it was, but stood up when he knocking became more insistent.

"What?" Severus barked. He found himself looking into the twinkling eyes of a Albus Dumbledore.

"I hope you don't mind the intrusion, my dear boy." The old man had the audacity to smile pleasantly.

"As a matter of fact, you-" Severus found himself cut off as Albus continued to talk as though he didn't exist.

"There is a small matter I would like to discuss with you."

There was a moment of dead silence before the younger man begrudgingly held open the door and watched the flurry of bright turquoise robes move to sit on his couch.

"Albus," Snape heaved a sigh. "If there was a point to this visit, please get on with it."

"Now why can't I visit for the sake of visiting?" Severus just glared until the elder man got to his point. "Very well. As you well know, with the death of your distant Prince relatives, you are required to do an annual check up on the various estates."

"I fail to see how my personal obligations are any of your business, _Headmaster_." Severus found a little satisfaction in causing the faintest hints of discomfort cross the old man's face.

"Do you remember Hope Potter?" The headmaster made his inquiry as though Severus might have forgotten.

" _Albus_." Severus felt his eyes narrow into slits. That insufferable girl would haunt him as long as he remained teaching. "Get to your point."

"You see, with the events of the past month, I figured that adding in an additional measure of security for Hope might be the best option." Severus could feel a headache brewing behind his eyes. "I should like for you to check up on her at least twice this summer."

"Absolutely not." This was completely out of the question.

"Hear me out." Albus raise a hand to the protest, the laughter in his eyes momentarily gone. "The blood wards surrounding Hope are only as strong as the value she places in her family. Considering that Hope has been rather... reluctant to return home, I would rest well knowing that these wards are still as strong as before."

"Of course the great Hope Potter is fine. You know how reluctant the muggleborn children are to return home each year." Severus scoffed. He could recall at least five other children that had asked the same from him. Albus nodded in agreement.

"Still, all the same, I would like you to investigating these wards once before you leave for personal business, and once upon your return. This should be enough to ensure that she remains safe until we are able to move her to Grimmauld place." Severus opened his mouth to protest once more, but Albus stopped him. "I'm not really asking, my boy."

While a bit of righteous fury rose in his chest, Severus nodded his acknowledgement. He remained sitting stiffly in his seat as the headmaster stood up, unable to quite hold back a glare as he watched the old man's movement. He made no move to show him out the door, letting the headmaster depart by himself.

"Have a good day, Severus!" With that last cheerful note, Severus was once again left alone.

There was something about Albus Dumbledore that always left him with a nervous tick in his right eye. Severus couldn't understand how such a great and powerful wizard always managed to look one step away from an insane asylum, but he did. A least he had forgotten to offer any of those infernal lemon drops that should have rottened his teeth out years ago. Albus tended to conveniently forget that Severus hated the taste of lemon.

Severus took a deep breath and stood up. The sooner he could leave Britain the better. He happened to know of a handful of estates scattered throughout Europe that were warded enough to not be found by his fellow Death Eaters or members of the Order.

He strode into his bedroom with a renewed determination, tossing open drawers and throwing what he needed onto the bed. A few spells later, and it was all organized in a trunk, which was promptly shrunken down to fit in his pocket. After a cursory glance around, Severus determined that he would not be needing anything else from the room.

He walked into his study, a large circular room that connected to a small library. If he was going to be leaving for this annual check up, there were a few documents that he would need. Along with a list of the various estates, proof of his lineage, the will from his grandparents on the Prince side of the family bequeathing said inheritance, plus a few additional papers regarding the registration and connections to the various governments and banks. Sometimes owning so much was annoyingly tedious.

Severus scoffed at his own thought that being rich was burdensome. All he had ever wanted when younger was to be out of the poverty that trapped him and his mother with an abusive father. He represented himself for thinking such thoughts.

With the necessary papers in hand, Severus paused by his potions lab to ensure that everything was in order. There was only one project that he had brewing at the moment, but that would not be ready for another two weeks. He would be back then to check on it... and that Potter girl.

There was a flash of annoyance once more at being required to 'check up' on that spoiled child. He couldn't escape her, as much as he wanted to. She would forever remain a virus to him, plaguing his thoughts and actions. Just like her father had been. _And Lily..._ No. He cut that thought off before he could finish it. Hope Potter was every bit as proud and arrogant as her father. There wasn't even a semblance of her mother in her.

Severus pulled out of his mind, any remnant of the good mood from only an hour before was completely destroyed. Severus sighed and made his way to the apparition point outside of the Hogwarts wards.

He needed a break.


	4. Acceptance

Here is the next chapter! I realize that this story might develop slower at first, but keep in mind that everyone she meets will be important!

Enjoy!:)

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The sun was high in the sky, providing just enough heat to be uncomfortable. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of Hope's face. She ignored it as she squinted in the bright light.

Hope was currently sitting in the shade of the one tree that stood in the park that was about a ten minute walk from the Dursleys. It was a large tree that was remarkably unscathed if one was to compare it to the sad state of the playground. Someone had used bolt cutters to destroy one of the swings, while the other had been looped around the supporting beam so many times that I was impossible to reach without a ladder. Vulgar words were spray painted on the slide, and it looked as though someone had attempted to attach nails to various part of the playscape so that they would stick through an unsuspecting victims foot.

There was a reason that the place was practically abandoned. Hope knew that the vast majority, if not all, of the destruction was courtesy of Dudley and his little 'gang'. Not that Hope would ever be able to tell anyone. The blame would only be shifted to her, and she didn't want to think of the results for that type of offense.

Another drop of sweat dropped from her forehead, this time getting into her eye. Hope muttered a curse darkly under her breath at the stinging sensation and quickly wiped her face off with her shirt.

"Hey! Freak show!" An all too familiar voice yelled at her from behind her. Hope sat completely still, both refusing to respond to a name like that and hoping that the person hadn't really seen her. She heard footsteps behind her.

Before she could bolt to her feet, a thin, wiry hand grabbed a fistful of her shirt and jerked her up.

"Let me g-" Hope felt her breath go out of her as a larger boy slammed her into the tree trunk. The boy's name was Colton Bramble, and he was one of the few in Dudley's group of friends who actually enjoyed taunting and hitting her. Not a day went by that Hope didn't pray that he would end up being hit by a car or mugged on the way to school. Maybe that was too harsh, but as long as he couldn't catch her, he was fine.

"Do you think I'm stupid?!" Colton bellowed into her ear. Hope kept her mouth shut, wincing when he shook her. "I know it was you who told on me last summer!"

Unfortunately, Hope knew what he was talking about. She had seen the older boy attempt to climb into the second story of a random old man's home, and had pointed him out to a neighbor before fleeing. She knew that he had gotten into major trouble for that and had been grateful that she was leaving the following day to return to Hogwarts.

"Whatever you think I did, I didn't do!" Hope reprimanded herself for her shaking voice. She had never been afraid of the boy until now. Colton had always been a bully, but this was the first year that he was bigger, stronger, and faster.

"Shut up, you lying bi-"

"Colton!" Hope had never been thankful for Dudley, but she was glad when he appeared. Colton released the death grip he had upon her arms and took a step back. Hope looked to Dudley, but her cousin firmly refused to look at her. "I just got tickets for a new film! Do you want to come?" Dudley spoke smugly, but there was something off about him that Hope couldn't quite figure out.

"Sure." Colton stepped away from Hope, and the two boys walked away without another backward glance.

The moment they were out of earshot, Hope let out a shaky breath as she used the tree behind her for support. She was going to need to be careful to avoid Colton this summer. Dudley... Hope didn't know quite what to make of Dudley's action. If she were any less cynical, she would think that he was trying to protect her from the older boy. However, after the display last night where she had needed to threaten him, she knew this was not the case.

Why couldn't everything be easy for once? Was it too hard to even ask for even a month where she didn't need for fear for her life or well-being? For a moment, Hope let herself fold into a fetal position, her head tucked into her knees and arms hanging limply by her side. It was a soothing position, and Hope forced her body to relax. Temporarily.

As soon as Hope felt enough confidence to keep breathing, she opened her eyes, stood up, and walked out of the small park. The park itself was on a corner, and the street to her immediate right returned to the Dursleys. Hope went left.

From what Hope could tell, it was probably around three or four in the afternoon. The sun was at its peak and she felt it. Her skin was already tinged red from the rays.

There was a shriek if laughter from ahead, that caused Hope to jerk to a halt. She could see from where she stood a group of around five children running around in the front yard, playing in the spray of a sprinkler.

Hope let a smile grace her lips. She unconsciously move closer, but stopped about three houses down. She couldn't bring herself to move forward, even if she was only walking past the group of children.

Her reflection in the window of a parked car nearby caught her eye. Hope analysed her appearance for the first time that summer. She had yet to cut the dark, tangly mass of hair that was about half a foot too long for he care she could give it. Currently, it was tied back with a homemade hair tie made from the sleeve of an old shirt. Her skin was tanned, but had the look of being pinched from the lack of food thus far. Any skin showing was slightly burnt, promising to peel later. Hope's shirt hung on her thin frame awkwardly, grey with various holes. At least her pants more or less fit, since they were castoffs from Aunt Petunia.

The conclusion that appeared in Hope's mind was simple: she looked homeless. She suspected that even going a step closer to that house would lead to a neighbor calling the police to report her.

No. Hope turned away and began to slowly walk back to the Dursleys. There was something about the way that she saw herself in that reflection that struck her. She brooded on the subject for a moment before she realized what she was feeling. She saw herself as the Dursleys saw her. She was filthy.

Hope shuddered as she caught sight of number four privet drive. She could see the only window in her bedroom. The same window that her uncle had once upon a time barred so keep her contained. All that was left of those bars were a few holes in the brick, but the visual was still imprinted in her mind.

There was a small flicker of doubt in a dark recess of her mind that told her that her uncle was right in attempting to lock her away. Hope buried that thought even deeper as she slipped into the backyard and through the back door. She moved silently in the currently empty house, crossing the kitchen to the stairs. The same stairs under which she had spent a good portion of her childhood. Hope had to tear her eyes away from the cupboard door as she moved past to her room upstairs. The same room where the door had at least five different locks on it to keep any freakiness locked away.

Hope stood in front of her door, not even noticing when the feeling of acceptance took hold of her.


	5. Locked Out

**Here is the next chapter! The reason reason that these chapters are updated a little irregularly is because I am still a student and have a part time job. This doesn't leave much time for writing, especially since it is one of the most difficult parts of the school year. Thank you for being patient!**

 **Enjoy!:)**

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Hope spent the rest of the afternoon in her room staring at the ceiling as she reclined on her mattress. She felt strange. It wasn't as though she hadn't felt lonely or worthless before. Hope could recall several times from before she knew about magic when the Dursleys made absolutely certain that she would be miserable.

One of the first memories that she had was of being thrilled when, in the first week of primary school, she was told to pick out a sheet of stickers by her teacher for good behavior. Dudley threw a fit when they got home, and Aunt Petunia promptly took the reward from her and give it to her son. Hope had started to cry, but a few hard spankings stopped her. Of course, there were many other similar incidents in the years to follow, each usually ending in Dudley being given whatever she had and Hope being punished.

Hope heard a dull slam of a door closing downstairs and looked out the window. She jumped to her feet when she noticed that it was almost dark. Hope began to pray that Aunt Petunia had precooked food as she took the stairs two at a time. Skidding into the kitchen, Hope opened the fridge, spotting some chicken and a half empty jar of spaghetti sauce. She breathed a sigh of relief. There was enough for pasta. If one thing was always constant in the Dursleys household, it was the stock of spaghetti noodles.

Her aunt came into the kitchen for a short period of time to ensure that Hope was making dinner. She frowned a little at the sight of pasta, but made no comment. Soon, the Dursleys were sitting down to the kitchen table as she stood in her customary spot in the farthest corner.

About fifteen minutes into the meal, there was a loud BANG! Petunia shrieked while both Vernon and Dudley let out a string of obscenities that made Hope raise an eyebrow. She had merely tensed, jerking her head to face the window. A small, dazed looking owl was perched on the small ledge outside, waiting to be let in.

Hope ran across the kitchen and flung the window open before the poor owl could recover enough to peck on the window.

"What is the meaning of this!" Vernon roared, knocking his chair over as he stood up. Hope recognized the bird as Errol and mentally cursed Ron for not using Pig to deliver whatever the message was. At least Pig didn't crash land into windows. Now Hope was likely going to be required to wash all of the windows on the house, inside and out.

Hope gathered the bird in her arms carefully just before a large hand took hold of her arm and spun her around. Her hip hit the edge of the counter, drawing a small hiss from her lips. Hope curled her body protectively around the animal and trained her eyes to remain on her uncle's feet.

Vernon grabbed the edge of her jaw with his hand free and forced her to look at him dead on. Hope suppresses a shudder at the look of pure loathing in his eyes. "Answer me, you stupid girl! What is the meaning of this?"

"I— I'm sorry, Sir!" Hope felt the grip on her jaw become almost painful and began to talk faster. "It was just on of my friends from school! Please, they didn't mean anything by it! That—"

A sharp sting cut her off as her uncle let go of her jaw long enough to backhand her. The suddenness of the blow took her off guard, and if not for his iron grip on one of her arms, Hope would have fallen to the ground. "DO NOT MAKE EXCUSES!" Vernon roared. Hope remained silent. It would do no good to speak to him right now. A slight metallic taste registered in her mouth. "You are living under MY roof, so you will obey MY rules!" Hope was quiet. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

"Yes, Sir!" Hope swallowed thickly. "But, Sir! They'll ask questions if I don't respond!" She spoke in a rush to get her argument it before her uncle could backhand her again.

Vernon narrowed his beady eyes and shoved her in the direction of the stairs. Hope hit the ground hard, unable to break her fall with the still dazed Errol in her arms. "Get a response ready and tell those freaks to not send anymore letters!"

"Yes, Sir." Hope mumbled. She practically bolted up the stairs, barely able to breath by the time she reached her room.

Once pressed into the corner of the room on her mattress, Hope let out a slightly strangled cry. Not loudly, but the sorrow was evident enough that Errol made a small comforting sound in the back of his throat and gently nipped at her fingertips. Hope smiled was watery as the ancient owl's form of comfort.

One deep breath later, Hope buried her emotions and grabbed the letter attached to Errol's leg.

 _Hope,_

 _You would not believe it. Barely a week into summer, and the twins have already gotten me grounded! Mum took away my broom! I'm telling you: NEVER, under ANY circumstances tell your sister that she needs to lose weight. Where did I go wrong? Ginny was literally asking if I thought that her shirt was getting too tight! Next thing you know, there are tears everywhere, I get blamed for everything because the twins were the ones who called her chubby, and then I get grounded. Honestly. I don't understand you girls sometimes. Don't get me wrong. You're fine. It's everyone else that is crazy._

 _Anyway. Tell me how your summer has been so far! Hedwig is doing fine, by the way. Mum didn't want me to use her to deliver the letter since she is so easy to spot. I hope Errol didn't cause any damage._

 _Has Hermione written you yet? I think she is on vacation somewhere on the coast right now. She told me that she would send a souvenir._

 _I almost forgot. What did you give to the twins? They've been acting strange ever since they got back from school, and that is never a good thing. They keep disappearing into their room for hours of end. It's getting so bad the all of the explosions that Mum refuses to go near that door. And guess who gets to do it in her stead? ME! Honestly. I hope you aren't responsible for this._

 _Write as soon as you can!_

 _Ron_

 _P.S. Mum wants to know if you want her to send a food basket again. I think she just misses you. Let us know how those muggles are treating you._

Hope laughed a few times at Ron's ignorance with females, but lost her smile at the last sentence. She unconsciously touched the side of her face where her uncle had hit her. It was sensitive to the touch, and she knew that it was bruised and swollen. At least she wasn't bleeding in her mouth any more.

Hope stood up, carefully setting Errol to the side. The poor bird had already fallen asleep in her embrace. Hope went to her trunk and pulled out some paper to write a response. She remained vague about her summer so far, mostly just saying how dull it was and how much she wished she could visit. The majority of her letter was spent on telling Ron that girls never want to hear the words fat, chubby, overweight, etc.

With that written, Hope tied the letter to Errol and woke the bird up. She moved silently out of her room and downstairs. The Dursleys had finished dinner by now and were in the living room watching the Telly. Hope went out the back door without a sound.

"Alright, Errol." She spoke softly. "Take this back to the Weasleys." The bird gave her fingers another affectionate nip and wobbly took off into the night. Hope waited outside until she could no longer make out the slow-flying bird. She turned to go back inside, and a clicking sound caused her to startle.

Hope looked at the back door where she heard the sound, testing out the door handle. Locked.

Hope pursed her lips, knowing full well that her Aunt, whom she could see through the window in the door, had seen her outside. Hope sank down onto the bench on the back porch. Even at night, the heat was stifling. She tried to get comfortable. Oh, if her friends could see her now, they would realize what a pitiful existence she lived.


	6. Feeling Clean

**This chapter is a bit of a filler chapter, but we are about to start meeting some more people that are important. Also, I feel as though there aren't enough explanations about how Harry would survive the summer with intensely abusive relatives. I can imagine that something similar would happen to him as what is happening to Hope. Plus, the books had Harry roaming the streets of the neighborhood and searching the newspapers from bins quite often. I'll try to keep the attitude between Harry and Hope similar. Alright, enough of my ranting.**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Hope woke up the moment that the first rays of sun touched her face. She let out a quiet groan and shifted. The wooden bench under her creaked as she stretched out her stiff muscles. Hope rested her elbows on her knees and looked at the backyard of the Dursleys.

It was a pretty yard with a good half of it having been cultivated into an extravagant garden. The garden itself was simply for show and held nothing in the realm of food. A fact that Hope was disappointed about. She could do with food right now.

Hope's hand unconsciously lifted to her cheek where her uncle backhanded her last night. It was no longer sensitive to the touch, which meant that it was most likely almost gone by now. She smiled bitterly.

The Dursleys has always been careful to not leave noticeable marks on her. One of the first times that she could remember her uncle hitting her was when she was around seven years old. She had just been serving him coffee when she had tripped and dropped the hot liquid on his lap. Not only had the coffee caused minor burns on some delicate areas, but she had ruined his pants and broken his favorite mug. He had immeasurably roared in anger and pain, backhanding her so hard that she hit the ground, blood immediately pouring from a broken nose and cuts on both her lip and cheekbone. What followed afterward was not something that Hope could ever call a 'spanking'. Her uncle had used his leather belt on her bottom in such a fierce manner, that she had been unable to sit properly for at least a week. She had found out afterwards that he had drawn blood, maybe even leaving a scar or two.

The point was that at that time, it had been obvious that she hadn't been in a simple fight. It was too the Dursley's startlement that within two days, there was no sign of her injuries. Not any that could be seen that is. That was how they found out that Hope healed abnormally fast. It was both a blessing and a curse. Her pain was shortened, but that gave more leeway for how harsh the punishments could be. It was also worse now that she only lived with the Dursleys during the summer. Before, there was the worry about someone asking questions if Hope ever had to be seen with her relatives. Now, she could be easily written off as a delinquent that they were caring for for short periods of time. A little stretch of the truth could mean that Hope wasn't even related to them at all, making the Dursleys seem all the more sacrificial and generous for trying to be a positive influence in a troubled teen's life.

Hope scoffed at the thought. She ran a hand through her tangled hair, pulling a piece forward. Shoulder length was too long for someone who washed it out with dish soap maybe once a week. She would need to cut it later today. She always hated doing that. Cutting her hair always made her look like a boy, which wasn't a good thing since she was already super small and in clothes that swallowed her.

There was a clicking sound behind her, and Petunia stuck her head outside. "Breakfast needs to be ready in fifteen minutes."

Hope got up and set to work making what she could in that time. Petunia informed her curtly about halfway through her toasting bagels that Dudley was on a diet and could not eat 'that garbage'. Hope bit her lip, but put the now wasted food to the side and began to throw together a fruit bowl to go with the eggs and bacon that were cooking. She set those on the table as the rest of the family walked in. A few minutes later and the rest of the food was done.

Hope breathed a sigh of relief as there appeared to be no cause for trouble so far. Dudley was telling Petunia how he had plans with his friends somewhere, while Vernon was reading the newspaper. Hope made a mental note to read that for news after her uncle left for work. Maybe she could find information about Voldemort there. It was bound to show up if he was attacking muggles at random.

Half an hour later, and there was a new list a chores on the kitchen table and the house was empty. Hope smiled to herself as she collected the bagel and started munching on it. The chores for the day were all inside, and Hope knew that they would be done by noon. The only downside was that it was also laundry day. That in and of itself would take hours. While the Dursleys were a clean family and always insisted on their home looking like it was a modeling house, they went through clothes like fiends. Petunia insisted that all clothes be washed after one wear, which meant that laundry day, which occurred once a week consisted of almost two loads per person. Dudley was the worst. He often just threw his clothes on the ground, leaving Hope to go through a mini scavenger hunt in order to find everything in his room.

Hope moved quickly to start the first load, and moved to finish the other chores before it was done. Hope, having saved Dudley's room for last was going through for his second load of laundry when something fell out of one of his pant pockets. Money. A twenty pound note to be exact. Hope picked it up and stared at it for a moment before pocketing it. She was almost certain that he wouldn't even realize that it was missing.

Hope finished everything a little after noon, and immediately set out to walk into town. She knew exactly what she was going to do with the money. Two hours, a thrift shop, and one grocery stop later, Hope had figured out how to get the most out of the twenty pounds. She was now in possession of two short-sleeved shirts, one of which she was already wearing, and a long-sleeve just in case. She swung a bag at her side containing as many canned products as she could afford with what was left after the clothes.

Now the trick was getting the food hidden in her room before the Dursleys found it. It took her about an hour and a half of walking to get back, and by that time, she had decided that she would keep the food in the shed outside until tomorrow.

Hope entered into the neighborhood of Little Whinging, feeling a little better about herself now that she had a different shirt one. She felt a little bit more clean.


	7. Alone in Switzerland

**I swear that I didn't mean to stop writing for a week...life hit me pretty hard. BUT I'm back on track again!**

 **I think it's time for an update on Severus.**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Severus Snape was at peace.

It was quite a startling thing to experience after so many years of lying and manipulating his way through life and death situations. He almost couldn't remember the last time he was in a location where no one could contact him.

Severus was currently standing on the back patio of a large manor. White columns lined the rim of the area, giving a picturesque frame to the mountains that were in the distance. There wasn't a sight of a cloud in the sky. It was surreal. The house was somewhere within the borders of Switzerland, but not even Severus knew where exactly. The only person who knew the exact location had been dead for many decades. The wards around the estate where extremely powerful, connected to the power of the earth itself. Whomever had erected them must have had a strong affinity for earth magic.

Severus walked slowly down the porch steps to the expanse of green lawn. To the right was the entrance of a small maze where a garden grew in the center. The edge of the forest was just within sight, promising to hold a number of wild animals, magical or not.

While Severus knew that he should be working himself to the bone back in England to help the Dark Lord recover, he almost didn't care. Almost. The thought intruded upon the peace of the moment, and Severus stopped walking. The man stood still in the lawn. His dark robes were an interesting contrast with the brightness of his surroundings. He didn't necessarily look out of place though.

His situation with the Dark Lord was an interesting one. Since his return, Severus had been called into the man's presence only one time. The conversation had been short and blunt.

" _Severus." The Dark Lord's voice was raspy from the lack of use, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. They held Severus' gaze until the younger man slowly knelt as a sign of respect._

" _My Lord." Severus was quite as he murmured his response. He didn't need to speak so softly, but the atmosphere seemed to command him to do so. Both men were alone in a dark study filled with dusty tomes. The only light came from a flickering lamp that sat at the edge of the desk behind which Voldemort sat. His eyes were a dark red in the yellow lighting, glimmering dangerously as they observed the man kneeling in front of me._

" _Tell me, Severus." The Dark Lord leaned forward in his chair. "What proof is there that you are still loyal to me? You did not try to search for me in all of these years, yet you still answer my call."_

 _Severus knew that he was going to ask something along those lines. There was a small movement in one of the shadowed corners of the room. Severus knew at a quick glance that it was the Dark Lord's familiar, Nagai. The snake had an uncanny way of knowing when someone was lying, so Severus chose his words carefully. He had seen one too many deaths caused by the venomous snake as a result of poorly crafted lie._

" _I have been working to gain the trust of the Light, my Lord. I knew you would return because you said that you would, but I did not search, knowing that you would only be found when you wished to be found. I wanted to be prepared to aid you and have done everything in my power to extend my resources for your use. My work is your work."_

 _There was a silence in the room as Voldemort stared into the eyes of Severus Snape, with the occasional soft hiss coming from the corner._

 _Severus didn't really care all that much if Voldemort ended up killing him. He used to, but that was years ago, and he had since accepted that he would die young._

" _Open your mind to me." The Dark Lord finally broke the silence. Severus did so, already pushing forward the memories that would back up his loyalty. Him creating several potions that were later stored in secret and given to fellow Death Eaters. A handful of conversations between him and Lucius on how to best prepare for the return of the Dark Lord. The feelings of hatred towards those who belonged to the Order of the Phoenix and the Potter brat. The willingness to help the Dark Lord recover to the best of his abilities._

 _When the Dark Lord pulled out of his mind, Severus shivered, suddenly glad that he wasn't standing. He appeared to be satisfied with what he had seen and felt._

" _Very well, Severus. I look forward to your brilliancy aiding my cause once more."_

" _My Lord, there is a matter that you must know about."_

" _Yes?"_

" _I have recently been made aware that due to the death of some extremely distant relatives that I have inherited the fortune of the Prince family. With that comes a handful of dealing that I must attend to outside of Britain. I may not be able to return on a moments notice depending on the wards existing around the estates as the Prince family appears to have been extremely paranoid."_

" _I see." The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes, clearly a little displeased at this. "Attend to your affairs as you must, however, I do require a handful of your potions before you leave to regain my strength."_

" _Of course, my Lord."_

The conversation had moved quickly into what Severus would provide the Dark Lord with and when, and soon, Severus had been gone.

The only thing that he had needed to do before leaving was check on the blood wards at the Potter girl's home. Ignoring the sameness that characterized the neighborhood of Little Whinging, he ran a few tests on number four Privet Drive. He did this extremely early in the morning before he left Britain to reduce the chances of seeing one Hope Potter. He was surprise that they were a little dim, but it was nothing to be worried about. Blood wards were extremely stable, and even if they weren't working at an hundred percent, they were impenetrable.

After sending the report back to Dumbledore that he found nothing wrong at Privet Drive, Severus had used a portkey to leave the British wizarding community for the next several weeks.

Severus shook his head to clear his mind. He was only at the first estate, and had a total of five to visit. He turned and strode back into the house to figure out how many special tools, devices, and artifacts he could find that would come in handy eventually. Severus was determined to enjoy this time while he could.


	8. Don't Mess It Up

**We are almost ready to start ramping up the angst and pain because clearly there is not enough already. I'll start providing warnings at the beginning of a chapter if the violence gets too graphic.**

 **As always: Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Hope hummed lightly under her breath as she strolled down the street of Privet Drive. The small bag of food in her hand was enough to make her content, and there was no sign of the Dursley's car in the driveway as she drew closer. That in and of itself was enough to cause happiness.

The intense heat of the summer was causing heat waves to rise off of the ground, and there were several damp spots on Hope's new shirt. Due to the heat, no one was willing to stay outside for more than a few minutes, with the small exception of Miss Figg. If Hope squinted, she could see the old woman walking on the opposite side of the road about five houses down. Hope assumed that the small ball of fur walking beside her was one of the lady's poor cats.

Hope reached her destination before Miss Figg came within hearing range, something that Hope was grateful for. She was not in the mood to discuss anything related to cats, and she most certainly could not afford to be dragged into a three hour tea.

Stepping into the backyard, Hope double checked that no one was home before she took her food upstairs. There was large hole in the wall of the closet, hidden behind a pile of broken toys and devices. If Hope took out a bit of the insulation in the area, it made the perfect hiding spot for food. Once the insulation was back in the wall, no one would ever think that there was food under it.

Hope's stomach growled and clenched painfully. She bit her lip, debating whether she should go ahead and eat one of the cans of soup. She held her hand flat in front of her. It was trembling with exhaustion. That trip into town had worn her out, and a bagel for breakfast was not enough to keep her satisfied.

No. Hope let her hand drop and deliberately pushed the pile of broken toys back in front of the hole in the wall. She closed the closet door. The sound of the door shutting mimicked the noise of the front door opening and closing downstairs.

Barely a minute passed before Hope heard her aunt yelling at her to get the groceries from the car and unload them. Hope sighed, looking longingly in the direction where she knew the food was hidden, and went downstairs.

Hope took note of the food that Petunia had bought, mentally running through what recipes could be used for tonight. She was putting away some canned goods when her aunt came back into the kitchen.

"I bought enough fish for guests tonight, so make sure to have it ready by six o'clock. There needs to be at least three other side dishes." Petunia spoke curtly. She turned to leave, but Hope stopped her.

"Aunt Petunia? Can—May I please have something to eat?" Hope spoke in a soft, but pleading voice. If there were guests tonight, she wouldn't be getting dinner once more. "I'm so hungry." Her stomach clenched at the reminder of food, and she curled an arm around her waist almost unconsciously. Hope peered through the curtain of hair that had fallen into her eyes, and found her aunt watching her.

Her aunt let out a small sigh and walked quickly to a bowl in the far corner of the kitchen counter. She removed an apple from it and quickly pressed it into Hope's hands.

"Eat this quickly." Petunia looked at the ornate clock on the wall. "Vernon will be home in about half a hour, so don't let him see you eating. We haven't forgotten what your freaky friends did to Dudley last year."

Hope nodded quickly, mentally shuddering at the reminder of how Dudley's tongue had grown abnormally long and discolored thanks to the candies that the twins left behind. That was certainly enough of a reason for her uncle to beat her senseless if provoked.

As soon as Petunia left the room, Hope made quick work of the apple as she finished putting away the rest of the groceries. The apple core itself was almost nonexistent by the time she was through with it.

She then darted outside and threw it as far as she could over the backyard fence so that it had no chance of ever being found in the trash. The things she did to not get caught.

Hope was working on creating a side dish of small potatoes that were to be tossed with lemon and butter as soon as they were boiled when she messed up. She was struggling to take a glass serving bowl down from a high shelf, when it slipped out of her fingers.

CRASH!

Glass shards flew everywhere across the floor in the kitchen. There was fast thumping noise as Petunia ran down the stairs to find the source of the noise. Hope's face drained of blood and she felt herself go increasingly lightheaded as the seconds passed. She was so dead.

Her aunt stopped at the doorway, looking in with a slightly horrified expression. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

"I'm sorry!" Hope gasped out, immediately falling to her knees to gather the largest pieces in her hands.

"We have guests coming in less than a hour! Are you trying to make us look bad?"

They both paused as the distant sound of the garage door opening could be heard. Hope paled even further.

"Just get everything cleaned up!" Petunia hissed. She then went to greet her husband, acting as though nothing had happened. There were times like this that confused Hope. Her aunt never hesitated to show disdain toward her or make her do endless streams of chores, but she almost never initiated a punishment. That is, she used to when Hope was younger, using corporal punishment. Now, she let Vernon take the lead in that department. Secretly, Hope wondered if her aunt thought that her husband's punishments were too much.

But that didn't matter right now. Right now, she had to get rid of the glass from everywhere and finish cooking dinner. Hope kept her eyes down as she swept the floor and her uncle was led upstairs by her aunt. He didn't seem to notice what had happened only a moment before.

Thirty minutes later, Petunia came back into the kitchen to take over the rest of the dinner preparations. The side dishes were already made, and only the fish was still cooking. Everything was spotless. The last thing to do was to set the table, but Hope knew that she would not need to do that now. The Dursleys prided themselves on having a picture perfect family with a picture perfect lifestyle. And to them, that meant that Petunia was the one in charge of the household. For all appearance sake, Petunia was the one who had made dinner, not Hope.

"Hurry upstairs." Petunia spoke curtly, and Hope was quick to mind. She left the kitchen, but paused at the bottom of the staircase when she saw that her uncle was already coming down. Hope stood silently off to the side, waiting for him to come downstairs before she went up. _Always defer to your betters._ Hope scoffed mentally at the line that rang in her head. She could never count the number of times that she heard that growing up.

Hope kept her eyes trained downward, thus avoiding the burning glare her uncle sent to her. She was about to slip upstairs, but he grabbed her arm.

"Oh no, you don't." He growled. Vernon was dressed in obviously expensive clothing that would look good on anyone but him.

"S-Sir?" Hope hoped that the fear wasn't to obvious in her voice. She was panicking inside. Had her aunt told him what she had down to the glass bowl earlier? Her uncle's beefy fingers dug into her arm hard enough to create bruises. He began to pull her back to the kitchen.

"Shut up, Freak." He shook her to make sure he was getting his point across. "I finally get a chance to host dinner for a work colleague that has good connections, and you are not going to mess it up."

They reached the back door, which Vernon jerked open and pulled Hope through. He proceeded to the shed that stood in the far left corner against the side of the house. The small structure was used to store the push lawn mower and various gardening tools required for proper maintenance of the yard.

Vernon opened the shed door and shoved Hope inside. Hope, unable to keep her balance, tripped over the lawn mower and ended up sprawled on the ground. Five inches to the left, and she would have landed on a pair of garden shears that had fallen open.

"Don't even think about trying to get out, and, I swear to God, if you do any of your freaky stuff, I'll beat you so hard you won't be able to move for a week."

With that, the door was slammed shut and was bolted from the outside, leaving Hope in pitch black darkness.


	9. The Dinner

**I know that this chapter is a short one, but I'm in the middle of prepping for another exam and don't have the time to do more today. I'm sure you will all love me by the end of the chapter.**

 **Warnings: none yet**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

A sleek black car pulled up to the driveway of Number Four Privet Drive. After a moment's hesitation, the car turned off and a couple got out. They walked up to the front door, which opened before they could reach it.

"Welcome!" Petunia Dursley gave a soft smile as she stood to the side and let them in. "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Barrel." Small pleasantries were exchanged an Petunia showed the couple where to put their coats and bags.

Mr. Barrel was of medium build with a receding dark brown hairline and a neatly trimmed mustache and beard, while Mrs. Barrel was a younger woman with the body and face that held a timeless youthful look. Both of them were dressed clothes that screamed money, and this suited them.

"I hope you didn't make a dessert, Mrs. Dursley, because I managed to get my hands on a cake from a favorite bakery of mine." Mrs. Barrel spoke softly as she passed the cake in her hands off to Petunia.

"Please, call me Petunia." Petunia lead them into the living room. "And I'm so glad that you brought the dessert. It looks delicious." She looked expectantly toward the stairs. "I will make sure to tell Vernon that you are here. Please, make yourself at home."

With that, Petunia slipped upstairs to find her husband.

"She seems very kind." Mrs. Barrel murmured to her husband.

"Just wait until you meet her husband." Mr. Barrel looked a little tired. "He's a proud and relentless man. I wouldn't normally agree to such a meal, but he does have some good connections."

Mrs. Barrel just hummed in response as they heard the Dursleys come down the stairs. Mr. Barrel stood to meet Mr. Dursley.

Soon the adults were in the dining room, making small talk over the meal and a red wine that wasn't quite up to par with the Barrel's taste. Of course, Mr. Barrel could have fooled anyone with the way he was drinking the substance in order to last him through the evening.

Suddenly, the conversation was interrupted by a sharp cry from Mrs. Barrel. The young woman was covering her mouth with her hand and had a teary look in her eyes.

"Mary?!" Mr. Barrel stood up quickly to reach her side. "Mary, what happened?!"

Mrs. Barrel took her hand away and spit what was in her mouth into her napkin. To Mr. Barrel's horror, a small trickle of blood appeared between her lips. A gasp of alarm came from Mrs. Dursley. Before anyone could reach for the the telephone to call emergency services, Mrs. Barrel reached her fingers into her mouth and pulled something small and clear out.

"My god. Is that glass?" Mr. Barrel took the shard from his wife and examined it in the light. It was indeed glass.

"I am so sorry!" Petunia gasped. "I can't imagine how that got there! Something did break in the kitchen earlier, but we were extremely careful to clean it up! Here, let me get you something to press to it."

Petunia rushed to the kitchen to find something while Mr. Barrel comforted his wife. She reassured him that there was nothing else stuck in her mouth as she grateful took the napkin that was passed to her by Petunia.

Throughout all of this, Mr. Dursley has exclaimed and spoken sympathetically in all of the right places. However, there was an odd look in his eyes that didn't sit right with Mr. Barrel.

"I'm so sorry to cut this evening short, but I think that I need to take my wife home and make sure we didn't miss any of the glass. We can reschedule some other time." Mr. Bramble put a little more pressure on the hand that he had on his wife's arm so that she knew not to protest.

"Of course!" Petunia spoke quickly, attempting to recover the situation as much as possible. She knew that Vernon was in no state of mind to respond graciously. "I can not express to you how sorry we are that this happened! Perhaps next time we can find reservations for a restaurant?"

Mr. Bramble made a generic response as he led his wife to the front door. A few more apologies later, and the couple was gone.

The moment that the car was driving away, Vernon rounded on Petunia. "That freak did this, didn't she?!"

"There was a small accident before you arrived—" Petunia was cut off.

"JUST TELL ME IF SHE DID IT!"

"Yes, she—" Petunia's words were useless as Vernon stalked to the backdoor. Petunia bit her lip a little. She hated the girl, but also knew that whatever Vernon was going to do to her wasn't going to be pretty. She wouldn't stop her husband from doing anything, but Petunia knew that Hope didn't deserve what was to come.

Petunia quickly ran to a cabinet in the bathroom in her room. She opened it and did a check of the medical supplies there. She would have enough for tonight. She hoped. Petunia was thankful that Dudley was spending the night at a friend's home.

She jumped slightly as the back door slammed open from the other room.


	10. I am a Freak

**I'm back! I took the exam and it was terrible... Then I found out that we had to put down one of our family dogs of ten year... Then I graduated high school... Then I spent hours editing a 400+ page document... I have other excuses, but I'm sure no one wants to hear. :)**

 **Anyhow. Here's the chapter that should have been written several days ago!**

 **Warnings: mild graphic abuse a.k.a. beating, mental manipulation (If this is a trigger for you, please don't read.)**

 **As always: Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Hope had managed to find a comfortable position on the floor of the shed. Various tools within the cramped shed would poke her every time she shifted, and she quickly learned to stay still after a shovel had fallen on her. With night falling outside, the darkness in the shed grew more absolute.

The only upside was that there was no way that she could be blamed if something went wrong inside. Hope took a deep breath. The air was getting a little too hot and stuffy for her comfort.

Suddenly, she heard the distant slamming of a door. Hope sat up at the sound. There was silence. She frowned. Maybe her headache was making her hear noises?

The lock on the shed door jiggled loudly as whoever was outside tried to open the door quickly. Hope's heart rate spiked. She knew that it was far too early for her to be let out.

The door finally flew open as the lock outside was undone, revealing the slightly purple faced Vernon Dursley. Without saying a word, he reached down and grabbed Hope's arm hard enough that she let out a small cry. He pulled her over the push lawn mower that she had been sitting behind. A small tear appeared in her jeans as they caught a rusted nail on the doorframe.

"Please! Sir! What—" Hope was silenced by the tightening of her uncle's grip on her arm. Her heart was in her throat. What had she done?!

Her uncle led her to the back door and kicked it open, practically dragging her through the kitchen to the stairs. Hope narrowly avoided hitting a small side table where a decorous vase sat by twisting her body sideways. She struggled to get her feet underneath her as they continued up the stairs with no pause. The fact that her uncle had yet say anything scared her.

A small flash of movement caught her eye. Hope looked fearfully into the eyes of her aunt, who was standing at the kitchen door. She could have sworn that her aunt looked scared for her, but she didn't have time to think about it as her uncle jerked her up the final few steps.

The moment that they passed the threshold of her room, Vernon threw her to the ground and shut the door behind him. There was a small crash from outside as a picture on the wall fell down. The only light in the room came from moonlight in the window, but her uncle didn't bother trying to find a light switch. It wouldn't have worked anyway. Her light had burned out sometime last year.

Hope's breath was knocked out of her when she hit the ground, and she struggled to scoot back from the towering figure of her uncle. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a breathless rasp.

"YOU WORTHLESS FREAK!" Vernon finally bellowed. Hope's back hit the wall behind her and she continued to move along the wall until she was huddled in the corner. "Because of you, MY family suffers! I could have been able to accomplish so much more without you and your STUPID attention-seeking actions!"

Her uncle continued to speak, sometimes shouting, other times speaking in harsh whisper. Hope still didn't know what she had done. She tried to press herself further back, but the wall stopped her. Hope's eyes followed every movement of his hands and every shift in body language.

Then the shift occurred. Her uncle had worked himself into such a rage that his words were no longer enough. He unclasped his belt and pulled it off. If Hope's heart rate wasn't already racing, it spiked even more. She could barely hear anything else that was said and her body felt numb. Hope hated her Uncle's belt with a passion.

Vernon folded the strap of leather in half, holding the loose ends. His girth was large enough that, even when the belt was folded, it could wrap around Hope more than once. That scared Hope.

Immediately, Hope twisted her body around in the corner so that she faced the corner of the wall. She tried to make herself smaller by curling into a ball, arms protecting her face. The only thing she gave her uncle easy access to was her back. She squeezed her eyes shut so hard that she saw spots.

"LOOK at me when I talk to you!" Vernon roared. He didn't allow any time for Hope to react before he let fly the first lash.

Hope gave a strangled cry as fire erupted on her back. The moment the traitorous sound escaped her lips, she jammed part of her fist into her mouth and bit down. The very next lash, she cut the cry off in her throat and simply bit her hand harder. It was all she could do to stop herself. All past experiences told her that every noise she made only served to fuel her uncle's anger.

Two more lashes. Tears began to sting her eyes. Hope cursed herself. She didn't want to give Vernon a reason to be happy.

"I SAID LOOK AT ME!" Vernon shouted, giving her a sharp kick in the side. It was enough to force her out of the ball she was curled in.

Her uncle reached down with his left hand and grabbed a fistful of her hair. A moan barely audible escaped Hope's throat as he pulled her up sharply by her hair. She struggled to get her feet under her. "You WILL learn to respect me! Do you hear me, girl?!"

Vernon, still holding her hair, shoved her face against the wall, exposing her back to him more clearly. Hope braced her forearms against the wall by her head. It was all she could do.

Another lash. This one on her lower back. Hope bit her lip and tasted blood. A few more swings from her uncle's arm and she heard the sound of cloth ripping. Warmth trickled down her back. Remaining upright and keeping quiet for the remainder of the punishment was the hardest thing that Hope had ever done. She would face Voldemort willingly any time over this.

When her uncle finally exhausted himself, he released his grip on her hair and watched her body crumple to the floor. Hope's eyes were crossing with the pain and drops of blood trickled from her mouth where she had bitten it. She couldn't stop her body from shuddering in silent sobs.

"You _stupid_ freak." Vernon spat out, taking a sadistic pleasure in the way that his niece shuddered at his voice. "You know you deserve every bit of that, don't you?" His voice was ragged from the effort he had put into hitting her.

Vernon kicked her side to get a response. When Hope did nothing, he knelt down and took hold of her hair once more to force her to look into his eyes. "Look at me when I talk to you, Freak."

Hope ignored the blood in her mouth as she bit the inside of her cheek and stared into the dark, glittering eyes of her uncle.

"Now tell me: Did you deserve this?" He shoved the belt strap in her face, ignoring the small crimson streak it left on her pale cheek.

"Y—Ye—Yes, S—Sir."

"Why?" He demanded, shaking her head a little to emphasize the question.

"Bec—Because I—I—I'm a F—Freak." The admittance killed something in Hope. She was too tired to understand what the new emptiness inside of her was.

"And don't forget it." Her uncle finally released her and stood up. He left the dark room behind with a slam of the door. Soon all of the locks were put to use, keeping a teenage girl inside who couldn't do more than move the tips of her fingers.

Hope remained where she was on the floor of her room, tears streaming down her face. Deep shuddered racked her body, sending even deeper jolts of pain through her nervous system. She couldn't see the damage done to her back, but knew that, even with her ability to heal fast, she wouldn't be moving for several days. Hope hated situation. She hated her uncle for what he did to her. She hated her cousin for following his father's lead. She hated her aunt for not stopping her uncle. She hated Albus Dumbledore for leaving her here. She hated Voldemort for not killing her when he killed her parents. Most of all, Hope hated herself. If only she was normal. If only she could just die already.

Another quiet sob forced its way out of her throat. It sounded loud in the dark, quiet room.


	11. The Aftermath

**Time to see the aftermath of Vernon's rage. I don't think that Petunia is acting out of character in this passage too much. My reasoning for her words and actions are that she is by no means a good person, but she has no desire to beat her niece into submission. She has been hardened by time and her husband's callus actions. Also, I don't think it would be completely wrong to say that she fears her husband a little.**

 **Warning: none? It's the aftermath of Hope's beating.**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

At some point in the early hours of the next morning, Hope's body was numb enough for her to hover on the edge of unconsciousness. It was an exhausting rest that left much to be desired.

She was pulled from this state as the other bedroom doors in the house began to slam open and close. That meant that her aunt and uncle were eating breakfast.

Hope was in the same position that she had been dumped into last night. All that she could see was the far left corner of the room and the occasional spot of dried blood. Her blood. Hope closed her eyes. She knew that she would need to try to move at some point, but she didn't have the courage to try just yet.

The air in the room was a little stale and felt heavy. Sun beams lit up the dusty air of the room, causing the little particles to flash in and out of sight. The few rays of sun that touched her left her skin warm.

Hope moved her fingers. At least that didn't cause pain. She began to rotate her wrists in slow circles. That was fine. Sore, but not crippling. The moment she attempted to move her arms, a stabbing pain traveled across her body. It was like a trigger reaction. Hope almost couldn't breathe. She tried to force her legs to move, but there was just more pain. Her vision tunneled, and Hope welcomed the darkness.

The next thing that Hope knew, there was a hand touching her shoulder. She jerked violently before the movement was stopped by the blinding pain. She took small, fast gasps of air.

"You stupid child! Don't move!"

That was a voice she hadn't expected to hear. Hope cracked her eyes open and watched blearily as her aunt reached for her.

"P—Please." One word. Spoken so softly that it was almost not noticeable. Her aunt paused.

"Hope." Hope flinched at the usage of her name. She couldn't remember the last time one of her relatives had used it. "Stay still."

Even though Hope flinched every time that Petunia made another movement, her aunt ignored her. There was a bowl of warm water next to the older woman along with a stack of white cloth. Petunia soaked a washcloth in the water and slowly began to put it on Hope's back.

"W—what are y—you do—ing?" Hope just knew that there had to be something in the water that would cause pain.

"Be quiet, girl." Petunia frowned at her niece, not stopping her actions. "I don't think you know how bad this looks."

Hope scoffed mentally. She had a pretty good idea.

"Your shirt is completely torn and is stuck to your back with the blood." Petunia continued speaking. Her voice sounded off to Hope.

Hope sucked in air slowly to keep from screaming as her aunt continued to touch the fresh whip marks. A few tears slipped out, unbidden. What Hope couldn't see was the way that her shirt was torn in multiple places across her back and side. The frayed shirt was stuck in the dried blood, hence the reason for the warm water. The shirt needed to come off.

Petunia wasn't an idiot. She knew that the shirt was something that Hope had recently acquired from somewhere else. Her niece only owned around five shirts that were worn interchangeably. Pity that her pants were also ruined. While the jeans would normally have been thick enough to stop the leather belt from tearing up the skin underneath, the material was too old and thin to do so. Instead, it, like the shirt, had torn in various areas.

After a good ten minutes, Petunia used a pair of kitchen scissors to cut away the ruined material. It was all the older woman could do to not throw up at the sight of her niece's damaged body. After a deep breath, she began to clean the skin as best as she could.

The entire time that Petunia was _helping_ her, Hope was watching her aunt's facial expressions. Hope saw indifference, followed by a poorly concealed horror and disdain. Hope tore her eyes away and let out a strangled gasp as her aunt brushed against a particularly deep welt. Her aunt merely hummed in response, continuing on without stopping.

Hope decided that it was better for her to keep her head down when her aunt had to switch from cleaning the crisscrossed mess of her back to her bottom and thighs. It was humiliating and her face burned at the action. If she had bothered to look up, she would have seen that her aunt held a similar look of embarrassment.

When Petunia sat back to wash the cloth of blood in the bowl of warm water, Hope looked back up. "W—why?"

Petunia's eyes met hers. There was a brief silence. "Listen here, girl, because I will not be repeating myself." Petunia spoke curtly. "While my opinion is that you are nothing but a drain on this family, I do not support such violent beatings. I will support my husband in his actions otherwise. But mark my words, girl." Petunia's eyes narrowed as she began to gather the pile of bandages and unwind them for use. "I act out of obligation to a dead sister. Keep your head down and don't mess up like this again! Do _not_ anger Vernon!"

The silence that followed after that small speech was almost deafening. Hope broke eye contact quickly and let her aunt continue to help her without any more interjections.

Not wanting to make her niece stand, Petunia commandeered the use of medical tape to cover the wounds on the girl's body. She skipped the use of rubbing alcohol altogether for cleansing purposes. Afterward, the woman found a large shirt for Hope to cover her nakedness with. Petunia wrinkles her nose in disgust at the state of the girl's undergarments. They were ruined with all of the blood and tears.

"I—um—I have more underwear in my trunk." Hope cringed a little at the look of loathing that the women sent toward the school trunk in the corner. She was immensely surprised when the woman actually went over and opened the offending trunk. Hope directed her on finding the necessary clothes. Five minutes, quite a bit of embarrassment, and no small amount of pain later, Hope had as much clothing on as possible. They decided to forgo the bra until Hope was a bit more healed.

The last thing that Petunia helped Hope do was move onto the mattress in the corner. That was a process that Hope never wanted to experience again. She was almost certain that she was bleeding again, and the pain made her mind go foggy.

She was vaguely aware of her aunt saying something about providing her food, but soon afterward she slipped into unconsciousness.


	12. Happiness

**On with the story! Please remember that if it seems as though everything is being drawn out without a purpose, it's not. I want you guys to feel the endlessness that Hope experiences daily. Things will be better soon. ;)**

 **Enjoy!:)**

 **P.S. I love reading your responses! Please review and let me know what you think about Hope!**

* * *

The next several days were...interesting. Moving was not an option. There were a few times when Hope felt so restless that she had to shift her body around. Doing so always left her in pain, but it was worth it in her mind. She fluctuated between wanting to feel some type of physical pain to wanting to feel nothing at all.

To keep herself occupied, Hope began to mentally review spells, wand motions, and random wizarding facts. She always made it to her third year before she began to fall asleep. A door slammed somewhere in the hall, and Hope's eyes jerked open. There were loud footstep in the hall, which meant that it had to be either Vernon or Dudley. It was midday, so it had to be Dudley.

The handle to her door rattled. Dudley must have realized that it was locked. There was silence for a moment before all of the locks to the door were opened.

"Hey, Freak." Dudley greeted casually. He walked into the room, holding an opened can of soup.

Hope tensed all of her muscles, wishing she had the ability to push herself into the corner. Dudley rolled his eyes at the look in her eyes and put the can down next to her mattress.

"Mum said you needed this. What the hell happened to you?" He sneered. "I'm not your servant."

"Nothing." Hope mumbled so quietly that her voice was nearly inaudible.

Dudley rolled his eyes again and used the toe of his shoe to poke her in the ribs. Hope jerked reflexively as a bolt of pain shot through her sore back, strangling a groan.

Dudley looked at her bizarrely and glances around her room. His eyes fell on several dark stains in the opposite corner. Next to those were the torn and bloodied pile of clothes that Petunia had cut off of her body not three days earlier.

Dudley swore softly and looked back down at the figure of his cousin on the small mattress. For the first time in years, something that seemed to resemble guilt crept into his mind. He glared at nothing in general before turning around and slamming the door behind him. He needed to think about what he just saw. His cousin was a freak after all. She probably deserved whatever had happened. Probably.

* * *

Hope slowly let out the breath that she had been holding. She never knew what exactly her cousin was thinking. That worried her.

Her eyes fell on the can of soup by her side and quickly reached out and began to sip it from the side. She struggled to accomplish this task, and small drops of the precious food fell onto the slightly yellowed sheets under her. Hope blamed her shaking hands. Slowly, she consumed the soup over the course of the next hour, thankful that Hedwig wasn't locked in the room with her.

She put her head in her arms and shifted slowly, relishing in the pain. She deserved it after all.

* * *

It was a week and a half before Hope was able to move around without it being obvious to other people that she was in constant pain. Her body's magic had helped immensely with the healing process, and most of what remained was the deepest of bruising and the tender skin where the belt had cut it open.

The angry red lines crossing her back would never go away, and she knew it. Hope had spent hours in the Hogwarts library trying to figure out how to get rid of the scarring on her body. Finally, she came across a chapter in a thick medicinal tomb about the limits to a magical beings ability to heal. Scars were rare to the magical world. This was one of the reasons that the scar on her forehead stood out so easily. Her magic was responsible for healing her quickly. However, with her malnourishment and the severity of the damage done to her left her magic unable to properly heal Hope's body.

On the morning that Hope found she could stand walking around, she stayed in her room until the house was empty for the morning. At some point, Petunia had forgotten to lock her door again, freeing Hope to made silent trips to the bathroom in the hallway for more water in the middle of the night.

The house was dead silent as Hope took her time to walk down the steps. From somewhere, there was a faint ticking of a clock. As she moved, Hope took in the state of the rooms, noting that none seem to be any worse as a result of her absence. Hope made it to the backdoor and slipped outside. The wave of heat startled her after being inside for so long. She took a breath of the hot air and set out.

By the time that she had made it to the local park, there was a thin coat of sweat over her entire body. It didn't help that she was wearing a long sleeve shirt and pants. There was still too much evidence on her arms and legs to wear anything else.

There was a shriek of laughter. Hope frozen halfway through the gate to the park entrance. She looked up to see a small group of kids chasing each other all over the playscape. Upon further examination, Hope realized that during the time that she had been 'disposed', someone had leaned up the playground, using fresh paint to cover the explicit words and pictures, as well as getting rid of the shards of glass and nails that had been purposefully left everywhere by Dudley's gang.

Hope kept her eyes on the children playing as she moved to the shade of the tree that she often sat under for hours at a time. She almost ran into a young mother, who was holding a newborn baby, in her distraction.

"Sorry." Hope spoke softly and quickly skirted around the woman. Now that she looked around her, Hope realized that there were several adults in the park perimeters, chatting as they watched their children play.

Hope bit her lip when she realized that her usual spot under the tree was taken. She felt the eyes of the other parents notice her and began to feel panicked. She shouldn't have come here.

Hope turned around and walked as quickly as she could to the park entrance, eyes firmly on the ground. Just before she could reach the gate, a large group of kids ran in front of her, screaming at the top of their lungs as they played tag. Hope was stuck briefly, but she found that she didn't mind. She gave a soft smile.

One of the kids suddenly tripped, falling behind the rest of the group. Hope swiftly knelt down to made sure the little girl was alright.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Wide blue eyes stared up at Hope, tears quickly spilling out. Hope made a comforting sound. "What's your name? I'm Hope."

"E—Emily." The girl spoke in a watery voice, cradling her knee.

"May I see your knee, Emily?"

By the time that Hope had convinced Emily that her knee wasn't hurt that bad since there wasn't any blood, one of the parents had noticed the little interaction and was moving toward them relatively fast.

"Is something wrong?" The woman spoke sharply, and Hope found her voice wouldn't quite work. She hunch in a little, but Emily immediately piped up and began to ramble to her mother how she had almost lost her leg, but then Hope had made it better.

Hope looked at the child a little confused, but the mother seemed to expect such a response.

"Thank you for helping Emily." She spoke wearily. "We just moved here, and she has more energy than the rest of the family."

"Of course." Hope spoke softly, giving the woman a smile. That explained why she was even speaking to someone like her. Hope didn't know every rumor that her Aunt had spread about her, but she knew that no parent in their right mind would ever let their child speak to her with her reputation. Hope was about to leave, but the woman continued to talk.

"Do you happen to know of any older girls in the neighborhood that would be willing to watch Emily?"

"Well," Hope didn't really know how to communicate to the woman that no one would speak to her long enough for her to know. "I'm afraid that I don't know the other girls in the neighborhood right now."

"Mummm!" Emily tugged on her mother's shirt, speaking in a loud whisper. "Can—" She broke off and turned to Hope. "I forgot your name."

"Hope."

"Can Hope watch me? I'll be good! I promise!" Hope couldn't help smiling at the pleading way that the child spoke.

"Emily—" The woman rubbed her face.

"I—I don't mind." Hope felt a little bit of hope rise in her for the first time in a long time. "I can watch her here, or wherever? You don't need to pay me."

Maybe her reputation wouldn't be ruined with this family?

Hope felt herself open up a little more as the woman relented and told her to come over the next day. Hope happily agreed. Anything to stay out of the Dursley's house.

As for her reputation, Hope said nothing and sent up a prayer that the neighbors wouldn't ruin this chance for her.

By the time that Hope returned back to the Dursley's she could almost ignore the ache in her body completely. The smile that had stayed on her face for the past several hours made her cheeks hurt.

"Girl!" The smile was gone as soon as she entered the kitchen. Petunia was unloading several bags of groceries onto the counter. "Where have you been! Get the rest of this put away!"

Hope did as she was told, flinching when she bumped into her aunt while trying to go to the pantry. The second time this happened, Petunia raised a hand to slap her face, but Hope spoke quickly.

"There are new neighbors, and they are expecting to see me tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" Petunia spoke scathingly, but lowered her hand. "Why would they be expecting you?"

"They want me to do some work for them." She was careful to keep out that she was only babysitting.

Petunia looked a little angry, but didn't hit her. It wouldn't do for there to be any handprints on Hope's face tomorrow. "When and for how much?"

"Around noon, and they didn't say they would pay me."

Petunia pursed her lips, but nodded. "Very well. Start on dinner."

Hope bowed her head and got to work. Internally she smiled. Even freaks could be happy sometimes, right?


	13. Only Children Notice

**Here is the next chapter! We are nearing the climax of the story and I am super excited!**

 **Warnings: faint allusions to cutting**

 **As always: Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Just before sunrise the next morning, Hope stood in front of the mirror in the guest bedroom with a pair of kitchen scissors. She stared at the bright green eyes reflecting back at her in the mirror before running her hair under the water to tame it just a little. She used a dirty towel from her cousin's bathroom to keep the floor clean as she ran her fingers through her shoulder length hair.

Hope took a small fistful of the black curls and held the hair straight as she slowly cut it away. She did this until her hair fell around the bottom of her ears. Then the second round began. Hope continued to trim the various strand and curls until she was satisfied that it would not fall into her eyes or be long enough for her uncle to grab easily.

Hope set the scissors down and ran her fingers through the damp curls, then she made sure that the surfaces in the room were clean before throwing the hair away and putting the towel in a clothes hamper.

One last glance in the mirror told Hope what she already knew. She looked like a ten year old boy, not an almost sixteen year old girl. She felt pretty with her hair longer and enjoyed doing things to it, but it was simply unrealistic to keep it long while being worked to the bone in the blistering heat every day. Hope scowled once at her reflection and slipped quietly downstairs to make breakfast for the family.

Vernon made a point to not say a word to her, which was a relief to Hope. Any time that she happened to accidentally make eye contact, his eyes would flash dangerously. Hope found that it was safer to keep her eyes trained on the floor. Her uncle had already kicked her knee in for daring to look at him in the eyes when she was placing a plate of bacon on the table, and Hope was now sporting a vibrant new bruise alongside a light limp.

After everyone had left for the day, Hope had a few chores to do inside before she could leave to help Emily's mom with Emily. It was around noon that Hope set off to their house. She made a mental note to figure out what the mom's name was. The day outside showed signs of a summer storm brewing, clouds covering the sky. It was a sweet relief from the constant heat.

The wind had picked up quite a bit by the time that Hope found herself standing in front of a house that looked just like all of the others in the neighborhood with the exclusion of the fact that the yard was not quite as well cared for. Hope rang the doorbell and within seconds, the door was thrown open by Emily.

"Hope!" The little girl beamed at Hope, making the older girl laugh. Emily was dressed in a princess outfit that had seen better days, and there were little plastic princess shoes on her feet. "MUM!" Emily ran off into the house in search of her mother, leaving the front door wide open. Hope smiled a little helplessly, not quite sure if she should go inside or not.

Hope was finally ushered inside by the girl's mother.

"Please ignore all of the boxes." The woman sighed. "We're still unpacking."

"You cut your hair!" Emily piped up. Hope laughed a little nervously.

"I did."

Emily tilted her head to the side as though she was considering some deep philosophical concept. "I liked it better long. You look like a boy now." She stated bluntly.

"Emily Miller, you apologize right now!" The woman, Mrs. Miller, looked horrified at her daughter's statement. Hope reassured the mother that she wasn't offended. Secretly, Hope as just glad that she didn't need to ask for her last name anymore.

"I just need to run to the store. I should be back soon, but feel free to help yourself to anything in the house."

"Okay." Hope spoke knowing that she wouldn't dare to ever eat any of their food, even if she was starving.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Miller was gone and Hope was dragged away to the little girl's room to play. Hope did her best to hide her slight limp, and, as far as she knew, her efforts appeared to work. Hope let go of her worries briefly and let herself be caught up in the wonder and imagination of the child.

* * *

Veronica Miller was a tired woman. Her only child, Emily, was so full of energy and excitement at the prospect of moving that she was harder to keep track of as they settled into the neighborhood. Veronica almost wept with joy at the arrival of Hope into her life.

There was something about the young teenager that told her that Hope could be trusted. At first, Veronica had been wary, especially in the park yesterday. It wasn't every day that a teenager lurked around park where children played. Hope's tired and slightly dirty appearance was Veronica's main cause for concern when she saw her talking to her daughter.

There was something disarming about Hope's smile and her quiet manner of speech. Emily seemed to also be quite taken with her, for which Veronica was grateful.

Thunder rolled in the distance as Veronica pulled into her driveway about two hours after she left. She looked at the sky and quickly began to gather her groceries.

"Hello!"

Veronica looked up at the greeting to see a woman with a small toy dog on a leash. She returned the greeting, which apparently was enough permission for the woman to walk over to start a conversation.

"I'm Eleanor Pennington."

"Veronica Miller."

They exchanged a few pleasantries before Veronica tried to insinuate that she was in a rush.

"I'm sure you need to go, although I did have a question." Eleanor looked a little concerned. "I happened to see the Potter girl go into your house earlier. What do you know of her?"

"Yes, I assume you are talking about Hope? She's watching my daughter for me. Is something wrong?"

"Well," Eleanor didn't seem to quite know how to phrase the words in her head so that the mother in front of her wouldn't be scared for her daughter's life. "You see, Hope Potter isn't considered very safe or stable."

"What do you mean?" Veronica frowned and shifted the groceries in her arms.

"She has something wrong mentally, and tends to have a violent streak. Just two summer's ago, Petunia Dursley—that would be her aunt— said that she attempted to kill her husband's sister. It was the whole reason that the girl left early for her boarding school. She goes somewhere for troubled children for the majority of the year."

"Oh, my god!" Veronica felt more than alarmed at this knowledge. Her daughter had been alone with Hope for the past two hours! "Thank you for letting me know! If you will excuse me!"

Veronica gathered up the last few groceries and shut the car door. She opened the front door and rushed to put the items in her arms down in the kitchen. The house was extremely quiet to her panicked mind. There were some noises coming from her daughter's bedroom. Veronica moved down the hallway and peeked into the room.

Her heart calmed a little at the sight of the thin teenaged girl braiding her daughter's hair. Emily looked perfectly happy as she chatted away. Veronica paused when she heard her daughter ask a question that seemed strange.

"Why do you have long sleeves on?" There was a pause.

"Because my skin is sensitive to the sun."

"Oh...But there isn't any sun today." There was a longer pause.

"I guess I was just cold this morning." The older girl's voice was a little strangled. Hope reached for a hair tie that was in front of Emily.

"Wait!" The little girl demanded. Veronica watched as her daughter grabbed Hope's hand with both of her's and looked at it closely. A look of panic showed on Hope's face and she pulled away from the little girl. "Wait!" Emily repeated with persistence. "Why do you have so many little lines on your hands?"

"I guarden a lot outside, and my aunt has several really thorny plants."

Emily twisted around just as Hope finished tying off her hair. The little girl climbed onto Hope's lap and gave her a big hug. For some reason, the look of surprise on Hope's face brought tears to Veronica's eyes. Hope winced as she brought her arms around Emily.

Veronica decided to knock on the door at that moment. Hope jumped, a flash of fear in her eyes before she realized that it was just Mrs. Miller.

"Mum!" Emily scrambled off of Hope and flung her arms around her mother.

Hope prepared to leave, following Veronica to the door. After saying goodbye to Emily, she was about to walk out of the door when the mother held out some money.

"Oh, you don't need to pay me." Hope held up a hand and gave Veronica a smile.

"I insist." Veronica had a feeling that the girl needed the money. However, she didn't ask for Hope's number or address on purpose, the conversation with Eleanor lingering at the back of her mind.

Hope looked a little doubtful, but took the money with a shaking hand. "Thank you."

There was a loud crack of thunder. Hope looked up at the dark sky. "I better hurry back before it starts raining. Thank you for letting me watch Emily! She's really sweet." Hope sent the little girl a small smile. "Bye, Emily!"

"Bye!" The blonde haired girl waved enthusiastically before rushing back into the house.

Veronica waved goodbye before shutting the door and locking it. She frowned. There was something off about this situation and she didn't like being confused. How could what Eleanor told her about Hope match up with the attitude and gentleness of the girl that she had just seen?

"Mum?" Veronica looked down to meet her daughter's eyes.

"What is it, Emmie?"

"Why did Hope have those lines on her hands?" Emily was frowning.

"Where they right here?" Veronica kelt down to her daughter's level and pointed to her wrist.

"Yes." The little girl hesitated. "They were also here." She pointed to her stomach. Veronica frowned.

"Why did you see her stomach?"

"She tickled me, so I tickled her back."

"I see." Veronica smiled at her daughter. "Don't worry about it, Honey. Some people just have those because they were made that way."

"Oh." Emily seemed to accept the explanation. "Okay!"

As Emily ran off again, Veronica worried her lip. The information she had about Hope was not adding up to a pretty picture. Scars on her wrist said something about the girl, but if there were scars on her torso as well...

Veronica wanted to see Hope again. She needed more information before contacting authorities. She looked at her watch. It was almost 3:00 in the afternoon. She would wait until her husband came home before making a decision. Maybe he would know what to do.


End file.
